


Orderly Chaos

by green_spear_of_causality88



Series: The Multiverse Is A Wide And Lonely Place [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crosstale | XTale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Dusttale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Killertale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Reapertale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfresh (Undertale), At least for a little bit, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I lied there's plot, IDK what else to tell you, It's more comedy than angst I promise, They get a dog, but it comes later later, cross and horror friendship supremeacy, cross is skeptic of nightmare but likes horror, dust and error bicker a lot but it's just dust teasing error until he chases him, dust has adhd big time and they all don't know (including him), for now just domestic sweetness, fresh will appear way later but he's like the fun uncle, he tolerates the others and has respect for killer, horror bakes!, it's just domestic sweetness in nightmare's castle, killer looks out for them all when he's not murdery himself, killer usually joins dust, nightmare calls it a few choice words, nightmare's a tired overlord let him rest, reaper appears in chapter 3 and is a lil' gremlin, something small as I work on Moving Forward, the least likely person will figure it out, who takes murdery children on equally murdery rides
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_spear_of_causality88/pseuds/green_spear_of_causality88
Summary: Not a day goes by where something doesn't happen in Nightmare's Castle. Nightmare, unfortunately, is too tired to deal with this shit.How lucky that the chaos comes to him instead.(Or:Snippets of life with the Nightmare gang at Nightmare's castle. Fluff, comedy, with the slightest angst sprinkled in as they seize each day they come across. When they're together, the impossible becomes possible.)
Series: The Multiverse Is A Wide And Lonely Place [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081001
Comments: 63
Kudos: 69





	1. Box

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to Orderly Chaos, a laidback story featuring Nightmare's gang!
> 
> I'll be updating this as I work on Moving On! This is mostly lighthearted, so kick back, relax, and enjoy the show!
> 
> Chapter Summary: Dust brings back a mysterious box. The bois have a guess as to what's inside.

**“What.”** Nightmare deadpans as he eyed his cheerful subordinate.

“i brought back a little somethin’!” Dust repeats, enthusiastic as ever.

Nightmare eyes the box in his hands. Dust had left to go on his patrol earlier, which wasn’t unusual, but when he came back…

_“guys! guys! guys!” The hooded skeleton shouts. The urgency in his voice quickly gathers the others, their respective magic and weapons at the ready._

_They immediately lower once they see what's in Dust's hands._

_"uh...Dust? pal?" Killer starts, sweating as a low growl starts from Error's direction. "whatcha got there?"_

_Dust's grin widens. "wanna guess?"_

_Oh, was this going to be a **time.**_

“spacin’ out on us, Boss?”

Dust waves a free hand in front of his face. Nightmare scowls. **“I don’t space out.”** The goopy skeleton pushes the offending appendage away with a tentacle, keeping his eyes trained on the infernal object.

Did it-...Did it just _move?_

Dust rolls his eyes, an easygoing grin on his face. It’s rare to see him in one of these moods, so whatever’s in the box must amuse him to no end.

Horror pokes at the cardboard, watching it quiver for a bit before stilling. So Nightmare _isn’t_ imagining things. Good to know. “smells like something alive.”

Error groans. _Why_ the Destroyer stuck around is anyone’s guess, since Killer and Dust got a kick out of annoying him at every turn. **“Dust, I sWeAR-ar-Ar to FA-atE aBOvE, iF yOu BrOUgH-oUGht bAck yE-E-eT** **_anOtHEr_ ** **rAt tO sLa-LAuGhtEr-”**

“ _relax,_ Glitch Boi-” If Error had a nose, it would wrinkle in disgust at the nickname- “-it ain’t another rat.”

“yeah, ‘specially after Horror ate the last one.” Killer snickers, standing off to the right. Horror’s permagrin widens ever so slightly, his lone eyelight brightening at the thought of another free meal.

Cross, the designated rookie, lightly pats Horror’s shoulder. “well, if it isn’t a rat but it can move and interests you enough to pick it up, then what is it?”

Dust’s grin gets wider. 

Nightmare has a bad feeling about this.

“what else?” the skeleton answers proudly as he lifts the lid, revealing -

Nightmare blanches. Killer’s jaw drops. Cross’ eye sockets widen. Horror’s eye light sparkles.

 **“N-No-O-o. NO No-O No.** **_nO.”_ ** Error flatly states, backing away towards Horror and Cross as Dust moves closer. There resting inside the box is a small dog, about the size of- wait, it’s even _smaller_ than a cup, just slightly bigger than a grape. How the hell had Dust even _spotted_ this thing?

It peeks its head out, gazing at its surroundings curiously. Its gaze zeroes in on something and it jumps-

-straight onto Horror’s unsuspecting head.

Silence descends the room. Nightmare didn’t think the little fucker could jump that high. _No one_ thought the little fucker could jump that high. Horror isn’t the tallest out of them by a long shot - Error proudly wore that title - but he isn’t as small as his pathetic brother, Dream. The jump from the box to Horror should’ve been fatal for the dog, and yet-

Nightmare’s eye socket narrows. Cross’ concerned voice and Dust’s whoops of surprise and excitement fade into the background as he thinks, tentacles writhing behind him as his permafrown lessens.

Killer steps up beside him. “what’s the verdict, Boss?”

Nightmare’s face seems to freeze. Then, suddenly, a wicked grin spreads across his skull.

**“Who knows? It will certainly make things interesting around here.”**

Killer is silent as he inspects his Boss’ amused face. He turns to gaze at the others, watching as Dust slams the (now empty) cardboard box onto Error’s head, causing the destroyer to come close to crashing as the hooded skeleton laughs at his misfortune. Cross and Horror are a bit farther away, both sitting on the ground and safe from the chaos. Cross is talking softly as Horror looks down at his hands in wonder, cradling the small dog that licks a phalange happily. He’s running a gentle finger over the dog’s head, that awestruck look never leaving his face.

Killer’s permagrin widens.

Looks like the little sucker will be sticking around, after all.


	2. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horror can bake. How had they not known this before?

Dust smells something heavenly.

In fact, it smells so good that it wakes him out of a dead sleep. He sits up in bed, knocking the covers off as he jumps to his feet. He takes a deep breath in, eyelights dilating as his natural grin widens.

It’s light and warm, wrapping him in a blanket. It’s sweet.

_Sweets are the shit._

_Sweets are_ **_his_ ** _shit._

He throws his door open, ignoring the annoyed shouts as he thunders down the corridor. His scarf is fluttering behind him and making him look like some damn superhero, he’s sure, and he’s a superhero on a search and rescue mission.

Further down, Cross is just exiting his room. He’s closing the door behind him when he senses Dust, turning towards him with a smile and a greeting halfway out of his mouth.

“ah, Dust, good mor-”

 _“OUTTA THE WAY, ROOKIE!”_ Dust roars. It sounds inhuman enough to have Cross’ senses kick into overdrive, diving out of the way as the hooded skeleton zips past. The former guard has a knife half-formed in his hand, eyelights shrunk into pinpricks as he stares at Dust’s form, which quickly disappears around the bend.

Cross blinks, feeling rather than seeing Killer make his way over. “what’s up with him?”

Killer snorts. “when is there _not_ something up with Dust?”

 _you’re his partner in crime,_ Cross wanted to say, but he valued his life, thank you very much. Instead he shrugs, giving a slight nod and a noise of agreement.

Killer pats his back once, firm enough to slightly wind him. “well, let’s go see the commotion. Error’s bound to be pissed at Dust...again.”

Cross sighs. _Once, stars above,_ he pleads, _just_ **_once_ ** _can there be some peace and quiet in this castle._

Error screams something in the distance as Dust’s cackles waft back towards them. His prayers go unanswered.

He figures.

* * *

Dust skids around the last corner into the kitchen, slipping a bit due to his fuzzy socks, and looks around frantically.

 _Where?_ Where is the sweet smell coming from? Why can’t he find it?

If he doesn’t find out in the next .5 seconds, he’s going to mcFuckin’ _lose it_ and it won’t be pretty-

“...Dust?”

The sound of his name has him whipping his skull towards the source. Horror is standing there, holding something in his hands, and- _oh._

He’s holding a tray of brownies.

Horror sets the tray down on the counter. “what’s the rush? you’re gonna _kill_ yourself running that fast. ‘course, it’d be a _smashing_ hit, but you’d still be making a _grave_ mistake if you kept that speed.”

Dust blinks. Once, twice, a third time for good measure. He’s pretty sure that his jaw hangs open.

Horror…

_Made that?_

_Horror can make stuff??_ Dust can’t stop gaping. Didn’t the hole in his head make him, y’know...forget things? Baking requires an immense amount of concentration _and_ expertise, so the fact that _Horror_ of all people was in the kitchen, making something smell _this_ good-

_It should be illegal._

Phalanges on his head pull him from his startling revelation. Horror’s near-manic grin is smaller, _dare he say_ **_softer,_ ** a lone eyelight scrutinizing him. Whether it’s as a next meal or out of concern is anyone’s guess.

“are you hungry?”

It’s only then that Dust remembers to close his mouth. He blinks, shifting from foot to foot as the prospect of getting his grubby little ~~gremlin hands~~ phalanges on some sweets makes his permagrin widen. “why else would i run in here like a maniac?”

Horror chuckles. The skeleton moves past him to grab a plate, placing two moderately-sized squares of gooey goodness onto it before handing it over. “there’s nice cream and fudge in the fridge. it’s up to you if you want a sundae.”

Dust whoops, jumping with renewed energy. Brownies, Nice Cream, _and_ fudge?! Count him in!

_Error can go kiss my nonexistent ass!_

The hooded skeleton blurs into a red and blue streak as he runs, dancing around the kitchen while grabbing the other ingredients. Horror is unfazed, moving over to place a tray of muffins inside the oven.

Dust skids to a stop with a triumphant shout, gently setting his plate down on the counter. The brownies are now dripping with chocolate Nice Cream, fudge suffocating the treat as it slides down onto the plate.

He turns to Horror and gestures proudly. “look at this wonderful, delectable treat! Horror, you are a _god_ for doing this!”

A pause. Dust watches as the other skeleton walks over to him, an eye socket closing in confusion once phalanges place themselves on his head.

Horror gives his skull a couple light pats. “sure. lemme know if you want seconds.”

As soon as he’d started, it was over. Horror moves away, leaving Dust confused as he places a hand on top of his skull. Error chooses that time to burst into the kitchen, yelling at Dust for causing a racket as he snags three (the heathen, only grabbing _three_ ) pieces of brownies. Cross and Killer enter a few minutes later, Cross giving Dust a wary side eye as Killer happily scoops some Nice Cream onto his plate.

“where’s Boss man?” Dust says around a mouthful of his sundae, which has Error scowling at him.

Horror holds up his phone. “coming.” he grunts out, eyeing the timer on the oven. “doin’ paperwork. might be a bit.”

**“That won’t be an issue.”**

They all turn. Dust grins as he spots Nightmare, enthusiastically waving the hand holding his fork in greeting. A piece of brownie and Nice Cream goes sailing through the air, landing on Error’s skull with a _splat_.

“eyy, Boss!” Dust says enthusiastically, blissfully unaware of the hushed whispers and an enraged growl coming closer. “you’re right on time! look; Horror made brownies, and i got to make a sundae with ‘em!”

Strings wrap around his still-waving hand. Dust freezes, slightly turning his head to stare at Error’s saccharine grin.

 **“ANd** **_I’m_ ** **goInG-Ng-nG To maKe a sK-El-eLEtOn kEbAB,”** the destroyer grinds out, his sickly sweet grin turning sharp. **“GO-O-oOd tHInG I hAve-vE** **_moRe_ ** **ThaN ENoUgh ingrE-rEDi-REdI-DienTs fOR tHat-T-t.”**

Nightmare sighs as he moves around them, paying no mind to Dust’s amused bargaining that quickly turns into panicked shouts. He grabs a plate, placing a single brownie on it before turning to watch the show.

He glances to his side at Horror, noticing how the other glances over at the two every now and then. **“I didn’t take you to be the type to bake.”**

Horror shrugs one shoulder, the action halfhearted. “never had time to.”

Nightmare hums. **“I take it that isn’t an issue anymore?”**

“...”

Horror looks on as Cross ducks, pulling Killer down with him as Dust sails over their heads seconds later. The hooded skeleton is back on his feet in an instant, dashing away with a cackle as Error follows, threats streaming from his mouth with renewed fervor. Cross and Killer look at each other, shrug, and resume eating Nice Cream.

Horror’s eyelight winks out. Nightmare eyes him, patient.

The axe-wielding skeleton places another brownie onto Nightmare’s plate. Nightmare blinks, as if expecting the additional piece to get up and walk away. “i can eat as much as i want.”

And this time, there is no mistaking the genuine smile on Horror’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that the dog needs a name-
> 
> The dog is a little teacup dog, a pomeranian. If you have suggestions, please feel free to share them!
> 
> Thank you for checking this story out!


	3. Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper visits. Error is not amused. Cross has questions. But are they worth the risk?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWORE TO MYSELF "Oh yeah, no plot, only fluff" BUT NOW THERE'S A PLOT TO THIS STORY AND- I'm a bit excited to share it with you all??
> 
> I've decided that this will loosely connect to Moving Forward, but this comes before that story so you don't need to read it!
> 
> fdvhjfd the plot will be more apparent with the next chapter. It ties to a project I've been working on for months, which has the majority of the story panned out. It's my first big project (and I also plan to have a tumblr blog for it), but I'll give out more information the closer to that plot we get!
> 
> Without further ado, Chapter 3!

“ _c’mon,_ Error, not even a hello? i’m hurt.”

**“FuCK oFf.”**

Cross watches curiously as Error scowls with disdain, walking with a floating skeleton drifting lazily behind him. He’s currently in the middle of doing a word search with Horror - er, _was,_ at this point - when the destroyer had walked in with the most sour look on his face. Then, a beat later, the strange skeleton laid on his ribcage as he bobbed in the air after him.

Said skeleton’s permagrin widens. “just kiddin’. can’t hurt what you don’t have, after all.”

Cross blinks in confusion. _What did he even mean by that?_ Before he can say anything, Error groans.

**“JuST gO tAlK t-To NigHTmAre AlReADy-y-Y, GLItCh, aNd-nD geT O-oUt Of mY sigH-iGh-IghT. yOU’rE jUst-T a nUisAnCe.”**

The floating skeleton stills. Eventually, he gives a chuckle. It sounds odd to Cross, even though this is the first time he’s seeing the other. “sure thing, pal. see ya.”

The floating skeleton disappears in a blink. Cross turns to Horror, a dozen questions waiting to be fired, but the other holds up a hand. “don’ look at me, newbie. that guy only ever talks to Boss and Error, an’ you can see how that last one’s goin’.”

“his name, at least?” Cross presses, because he can’t keep referring to the newcomer as “the newcomer” or “floating skeleton”. Horror looks off to the side, scratching at his dead eye socket.

“...dunno.” he grumbles. “forgot.”

Cross frowns. He knows Horror hates forgetting things, and to ground himself he tugs at his eye socket.

_That doesn’t mean it’s a healthy habit to have._

The ex-guard places a hand on Horror’s sleeve, gently pulling it away from his eye. Horror blinks like he’s coming to, lone eyelight wavering as it trains on him.

Cross’ gaze softens. “it’s alright, Horror; i’ll ask Killer later. let’s finish this word search first. do we still have leftover brownies?”

Horror looks at him, and Cross tenses. It feels like something’s probing his soul, searching for something, but this was _Horror;_ he’d never do that to a teammate…

_...right?_

Horror’s gaze trails off to the side, and Cross sucks in a breath he didn’t know he was releasing. “...should be one. there’s chocolate chip muffins.”

Cross springs to his feet, giving Horror’s shoulder a gentle pat. “i’ll grab you a plate. you can have the last brownie.”

It isn’t his decision to make about who gets what in the first place - Horror’s the one who made the stuff, after all - but seeing that familiar spark return to Horror’s eyelight has his SOUL feeling lighter. He made a good choice, and he can’t be happier.

Horror gives a single nod, a tiny bark coming from his lap. The Little One (Cross will _die_ before he reveals his personal name for the dog as they search for an official one) pops their small head out, staring at Cross as they wagged their tail.

Cross buries his skull into the fur of his hood. This dog is going to be the death of him, he’s sure. 

“...i’ll get something for the _both_ of you.”

He doesn’t wait to see Horror’s expression as he makes a hasty retreat towards the kitchen, pulling the cool treats from the fridge with a sigh. Not once in a million years did he think he’d be in _Nightmare’s_ castle of all things, enjoying a “Bad Sans’” presence and even playing word search with him. Though he supposes that he’s a “Bad Sans” now too, since it’s been a few months living with them. (He doesn’t think about Dream’s hurt expression, he doesn’t think about it, he doesn’t _think-_ )

“geez kid, glare any harder and i’m sure you’ll tear a hole in the door.”

Cross doesn’t jump as he whips to face the sudden voice. He _doesn’t._ He sets the desserts on the counter, gently closing the fridge. “you’re- ”

The floating skeleton from before winks, legs kicking lazily behind him as he rests ribcage-first on the air. He wags his phalanges in greeting, a shit-eating grin on his face. “heya.”

Cross exhales slowly, hoping to calm his rapidly beating SOUL. It helps a bit. “...hello. i don’t think we’ve met before; i’m- ”

“Cross, yadda yadda yadda, i heard about ya from Nightmare. the newbie.” The other cuts him off, much to his chagrin. He sticks a hand out, permagrin lessening into politeness. “nice to meetcha. i go by reaper.”

Cross stares at the extended hand. Reaper wiggles his phalanges a bit in his direction before lowering his hand with a sigh. “c’mon, buddy…”

A gust of wind. Cross senses a presence behind him, instinctively reaching behind him for the handle of his sword before freezing.

The sudden amount of pressure in the room blindsides him. He feels like he’s choking on tar- _no,_ something lighter than tar but darker in color. A flash or a starry night enters his head, the twinkling lights winking out one by one until the world is plunged into darkness.

Something hovers over his shoulder. Cross doesn’t move his head ( _he can’t even move his_ **_feet_ ** _despite his instincts screaming at him, repeating the word danger danger_ **_danger-_ **), instead his eyelights trailing towards the side until they meet Reaper’s too-wide grin.

**“d o n ’ t c h a k n o w h o w t o g r e e t a n e w p a l ?”**

A whipping sound cuts through the heavy air. Reaper pulls himself away just in time to avoid the thrown axe, which imbeds itself into the wall behind him.

Horror stands at the entrance, a hand scratching at the edges of the gaping hole in his skull. There’s a frown on his face, his eyelight flashing as a low growl builds. “i ’membered why i wanted to stay away from ya. hands off the rookie, **_Reaper;_ ** he ain’t yours to steal.”

Reaper pouts, seemingly unaware of the frozen state he’s left Cross in. “aw, shucks. figured i’d snag a soul on my way out.”

Horror walks over, past Reaper who stares at him curiously. The skeleton rips his weapon out of the wall, unapologetic about the (quite obvious) hole left behind. He places a free hand on Cross’ shoulder, a steadying presence that has him snapping out of it as the other rests the axe against his own shoulder.

“yeah, well, we ain’t sellin’.” Horror growls. “now get outta here before i make a headdog outta ya, and keep us out of your drama. just ‘cause _he_ doesn’t want to talk to ya like every other sane person doesn’t mean ya can mess with us to blow off steam.”

Cross isn’t sure who “he” is, but judging by the way Reaper’s expression falls to an eerily blank slate, Horror hit the nail right on the head.

Nothing shines in Reaper’s eye sockets. They both look dead. For some reason, that look is what has Cross on edge, even above the suffocating pressure that descends once again.

“...heh.”

The sound of a laugh, loud and sudden, startles the ex-guard. Reaper’s grin lessens to a more laidback one, although it remains tight at the edges. “ya got a point, buddy. Nightmare would have my head if he found out i took a precious subordinate of his. i know when to cut my losses and leave.”

He extends a hand out once more. “well, until next time.”

No one moves to take the offered hand. Reaper blinks, as if suddenly realizing something. “ah...right. heh, forgot about the whole touch thing. well, ‘til next time. i gotta say, Nightmare sure knows how to pick some interestin’ sans SOULs.”

Cross blinks, and Reaper is gone. He feels Horror reach higher to pat his skull once before picking up the discarded plates.

“he didn’t hurt ya?”

Cross shakes his head, quietly following after the other as they resume their spots on the floor. “i thought he just went to a meeting with Nightmare. how is it already over?”

Horror gives a shrug. “don’ know all the specifics, but Killer said that he drops by to give a paper over to Boss before leavin’. no one but Boss knows what it says.”

Cross frowns. Not even Killer, Nightmare’s right-hand skeleton, knows? Just what was important enough to hide from them?

Horror shoots him a look. “i know that look, rookie. don’t go chasin’ answers that’ll get you dusted.”

Cross averts his gaze but says nothing. Instead, he leans over and scoops Little One into his palm. The dog barks happily, licking the tips of his phalanges before settling down in his hold and closing their eyes. “i’ll ask Killer and work my way from there.”

“ _damnit rookie,_ ” Horror groans, reaching over to grab a discarded pencil and angrily scratching out a word on the paper. Cross follows the motion, watching as the word PERILOUS gets a line drawn through it. “you’re just _askin’_ to get your SOUL shattered. ya hear me?”

“i do.”

Cross’ voice, quiet but firm, startles Horror into brief silence. “i do,” he repeats, “but the risk is worth it. i understand that there are some truths better off unknown, but this could pose a danger to us all. i may be new, but...i get the sense that Nightmare plays things close to the ribcage when it involves more than one of us.”

If Cross could read Horror’s mind right now, he’d see how impressed Horror is at the ex-guard. Cross may seem brooding (and he is, but not as often as the first couple weeks of his stay here), but it only serves to hide his observant nature. He keeps tabs on the moods and dispositions of others, knowing when to give space and when to pester.

_Where the hell had Nightmare found this guy?_

“heh heh.” Horror chuckles. “i’ll hold ya to it, kid. now get searchin’; i already found two other words.”

“wh- hey!”

* * *

**[Universe - Unknown.]**

**[Location - Unknown.]**

**{Searching...Searching…}**

**_Location Found! Updating…_ **

**[Location - Home. Universe - Reapertale.]**

Reaper crashes to the ground with a groan, rolling onto his back and digging the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. All around him stretches an endless night, a dim light from above shining a spotlight down on him. 

Nothing moves; nothing grows. Such is the Rule of Death’s Domain, a place where any form of Life goes to die.

These thoughts are far from Reaper’s mind as he wills himself to float, letting muscle memory take over while he gets lost in his thoughts. How could he be such an idiot? Yeah, he was having an off day due to some mortals insulting his brother _and_ his job, but that didn’t give him the okay to mess with Nightmare’s group!

He flips over in the air with a sigh. Normally he wouldn’t have a problem with who he pissed off, but Nightmare-...is different.

Add on the fact that Error-

**_“JuST gO tAlK t-To NigHTmAre AlReADy-y-Y, GLItCh, aNd-nD geT O-oUt Of mY sigH-iGh-IghT. yOU’rE jUst-T a nUisAnCe.”_ **

“...” Reaper frowns. His eye sockets, while normally vacant, look more dead than usual.

He scratches at one.

“welp. time to call it a day.”

He needs to watch himself around Nightmare’s lackeys. That kid - _Cross,_ if he remembers right - is gonna be tense for _weeks_ around him after that little stunt he pulled. The other one will probably forget the incident, but his body won’t.

As for Error…

 _no doubt he’ll tell the Big Bad._ Reaper’s eye sockets narrow, worry pulling his permagrin into a small frown. This accident won’t be enough to deter Nightmare, but it certainly will make the goopy skeleton keep an eye on him.

Reaper flips lazily in the air, stopping when his back becomes parallel to the ground. He holds a hand up, towards the dim light.

It’s fine if he’s regarded warily. It’s okay if he’s looked at with fear.

_Just please…_

_Don’t leave me behind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horror: *Is traumatized by what went down in Horrortale*  
> Cross: *Helps him*  
> Horror:  
> Horror: You are now my brethren, I will fight Death himself for you
> 
> The capitalization of names is intentional and significant, but I'm not going to say why~ You're gonna have to guess!
> 
> Reaper is, as promised, a little gremlin. Error is 100% done with his shenanigans, but is there more to the story...? Also, Horror and Cross as friends is a friendship I never thought I'd have this much fun writing!
> 
> Until next time!


	4. Dance Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killer tries to get Nightmare to relax. He enlists the help of Dust. 
> 
> Peace was never an option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I would like to thank BookwyrmFinallyGotAnAccount for the names Cross uses for the small dog! They're downright wholesome, and the others they suggested left me cackling.
> 
> I'd also like to thank KittyKatt25 for the names Horror will use for the dog! They're not in this chapter, but they most certainly will be in the next one! My heart melted at the sweet names, and you know Horror is going to use more than one!
> 
> One last thing before the start of the chapter, I promise! Thank you all so much for the kind words and suggestions! If you have any more regarding names each skeleton calls the dog, please don't be shy and send them in!
> 
> Without further ado, here's Chapter 4 of Orderly Chaos!

**“-n’t going to work, Reaper.”**

“hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. guess all that’s left is to keep an eye socket out and watch for any strange developments. if this is what you think it is, then this affects not just multiple core AUs, but-”

A thud. Reaper’s words are cut off. **“I know. I** **_know_ ** **what this means, Reap. That’s why you’re our best shot.”**

A chuckle. “aw, you only keep me around for my  _ dazzling _ touch?”

A slow beat.  **“...You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”**

Killer leans away from the door, the rest of their words flying over his skull. He doesn’t think he’s heard Boss sound this quiet, this  _ tired _ before. And it seems with each visit Reaper makes, the more exhausted Nightmare gets.

He needs to do something about it.

The skeleton makes his silent escape, Nightmare’s and Reaper’s voices growing fainter until disappearing altogether. He takes a turn and then another, coming to a stop in front of a peculiar door. The door itself is fine: furnished wood, a rich mahogany color, and an equally dark door handle.

It’s the scratch marks and dents littered over the front, coupled with a sign written in crayon saying  **_“Dust’s Room, Enter If You Want To Get Dunked On”_ ** that makes it peculiar.

Killer remains unperturbed, raising a hand to knock before stopping. He hums thoughtfully as his hand rests inches away from the door, lowering and gripping the handle instead.

_ it’s nice to give Dust a scare every now and then. _

Killer opens the door with little fanfare, poking his head into the room. “Dust, there’s- ”

He freezes.

Dust is sitting at his desk (which he most certainly  _ never sits at  _ because he has the attention span of a squirrel), pencil in hand and a stack of papers sitting to his right. His phone plays a-...he can’t even  _ begin _ to describe the tune, a garbled mess of voices and sounds that the hooded skeleton is surprisingly keeping up with.

The thing that gets Killer is how  _ still _ Dust is. All he’s ever seen the skeleton do is move, even in his sleep. Here, his whole frame is unmoving save for his dominant hand, which scribbles something on paper.

Dust looks up, turning in his seat to face Killer. “oh hey, Killer. what’s up?”

Killer blinks before shaking his head with a grin, stepping all the way into the room before closing the door behind him. “had an idea that involves Boss. was wondering if you wanted in.”

Dust places his pencil on the desk as his permagrin widens, eyelights flashing with curiosity. “Boss Man? now you’ve got my interest. what’re we doing?”

Killer leans in and whispers something. He watches as the hooded skeleton’s curiosity morphs into shock, then delight as he tilts his skull back and laughs.

Dust’s grin turns downright  _ feral. _ “sounds like a  _ killer _ idea. well, what’re we waiting for? let’s get this show on the road!”

* * *

Nightmare is in a foul mood.

To be fair, he’s in a foul mood the majority of the time. It’s just that these past few days have been  _ especially _ trying, and just seconds ago Error grumbled to him about Reaper’s little “incident” so now he has to keep an eye socket on the numbskull. The floating skeleton has always seemed off to him, but unless he’s physically there to watch the changes in demeanor he has no leads on what it could be.

(He’s certain that if he starts putting the pieces together, it’ll point to an answer he won’t like in the slightest.)

The goopy skeleton lets out a low growl as he stares at the paper on his desk, reaching for his mug of coffee and downing it in one go. Reaper’s latest report sits innocuously, and Nightmare wants nothing more than to shred the little slip of paper into pieces. 

Fortunately, he’s not that childish. He memorizes the content before tearing it neatly in two, making a mental note to throw it in the fireplace once everyone has retired to their rooms for the night. He doesn’t need anyone else to see this, though it’s coming to the point that it may involve them whether they liked it or not.

And he’s certain that he isn’t the only one who knows about this. No doubt that damn painter noticed something in his Doodlesphere, though only just enough to make a small note on his scarf. And if he remembers to tell those Star Sanses, then his brother will know, and then his brother will know that  _ he _ knows and-

He lets his skull hit the desk with a  _ thud, _ slowly exhaling a breath of air.  **_If one more thing happens today, I am going to lose it._ ** He doesn’t move even as a single knock is heard before the door slowly opens, certain that whoever it is will see the messy stacks of paper shoved off to the side and smartly back away.

Unfortunately, none of his subordinates are that smart. “Boss, there’s something i have to talk to ya about.”

Nightmare lifts his head to glare at Killer. Can’t he see that he’s  _ busy? _ (Busy being done with paperwork and looking for subtle ways to procrastinate, sure,  _ but that’s not the point here because the point is that he’s  _ **_busy._ ** ) Killer is one out of two beings he’ll show this side of himself to, the other being Reaper. He’ll destroy anyone else if they so much as  _ glimpse _ this moment.  **“I wasn’t asking. Now** **_leave.”_ **

Killer chuckles nervously. “uh, sorry...no can do, Boss.”

Nightmare’s glare turns downright murderous as the lid on his anger threatens to pop off.  **“What. Did. You. Say?”**

“Killer said no!”

Nightmare blanches as Dust pokes his skull into the room, the rest of him following soon after with a bounce. Killer now has multiple beads of sweat on his skull, looking at Dust as if he’s lost his mind (which he has,  _ does he even know who he’s talking to _ ). The hooded skeleton pays the frantic gestures Killer is sending his way no mind, instead giving Nightmare a bright grin.

“geez, Boss Man, don’t tell us that you’re losing your hearing in your old age.”

A smack as Killer’s hand meets his own skull. Nightmare stands from his desk, his growl on the precipice of becoming a snarl.  **“You have three seconds to explain yourselves before I skewer you. My tentacles** **_have_ ** **been a bit twitchy as of late; releasing some pent-up energy will do them some good.”**

Dust and Killer gulp in unison, the latter rushing to speak. “w-well, y’see Boss, there’s-”

“-an emergency!” Dust interrupts, shoving past the other. Killer looks ready to murder Dust himself at this point, and by the way Dust’s grin stretches he knows it too. “you gotta come see this! Error’s in the living room, and-”

Nightmare rolls an eyelight, cutting him off.  **“-can take care of himself. Now-”**

“but that Reaper guy is also-”

Nightmare swears profusely under his breath, startling Dust into silence. The two can only look on as their leader pushes his way around the desk, moving past them towards the door. Not once does he stop swearing, even as his voice grows fainter the further he gets away.

**“-cking** **_idiot,_ ** **I told him not to push it** **_and what does he fucking do-_ ** **”**

They wisely stay quiet until he disappears down the hallway, sending a glance towards one another. Killer is quick to pull Dust into a huddle pile just outside of Nightmare’s office, his voice a low hiss.

“Dust when i said to  _ coerce _ him to come out-”

“ _ c’mon _ Killer, you know that he has some history with the floating creep, what’s the harm in using ‘im-”

“he’s going to work himself up into a frenzy if we don’t do something, oh stars he’s going to have your  _ skull _ once he finds out it’s a ruse-”

“yeah, well that’ll be the rookie’s problem to deal with.” Dust waves him off, nonchalant about the entire ordeal. Killer can only sigh.

“...then let’s get going. we underestimated the amount of stress Boss is feeling; the kid’s not equipped to last long against him when he’s raging.”

* * *

Cross is, in fact,  _ not equipped _ to last long against an enraged Nightmare.

He dives to the side as a stray tentacle whips through the area he was previously standing in, Nightmare’s eyelight glowing a dangerous teal.  **“Where? Where is that damn Reaper? TELL ME!”**

“what? i haven’t seen him arou-” Cross shouts in surprise as the coffee table next to him gets smashed to smithereens. The ex-guard trails his gaze up from the splintered wood to the tentacle that broke it, then to the furious expression on Nightmare’s face. His leader is absolutely  _ seething, _ fists clenched as his tentacles rip the poor furniture to pieces.

This blowup feels... _ off, _ somehow. Different. Like it isn’t just anger that drives Nightmare to break over half of the objects in the room the second the goopy skeleton enters, smashing the poor chair next to the one he was in as he read with a tentacle. Cross doesn’t know if there’s anything he can do about it right now, but he’ll figure  _ something _ out in the near future-

A vase shatters against the wall next to him, inches from his skull. He swallows, sweat rolling down his cheekbone. Yeah, he’ll figure it out once he’s not in immediate danger of being dusted.

**“I’ll give you until the count of ten you damn God, and if I don’t see you then I’ll** **_destroy_ ** **everything in this room at once!”**

Nightmare’s roar has Cross scrambling, the skeleton vaulting over the upturned couch and breaking into a dead sprint towards the recreation room. His mental counter marks him at three seconds until utter mayhem is wrecked in the living room, and he can only close his eye sockets as he braces for impact.

**“UgH, wHA-Ha-hAt’s WiTh alL tHe s̷̥͉̈͂̈́́̌̄͒̂͒̑̿͊̈̑͝͠c̷̣̆̂R̷̤̘̻̪̔̾̑̀̉̈́̎̎̓̓͊͌̕͜͝͠͝Ȩ̸̛͚͎̝̹̎̾̈́͛̔͂͗̊̚͘͝A̸̢̦̯͕͎̥̖̗̙͙̦͆͛̓̆̽̈́̔̕͜͝Ḿ̴̡̟̪͕̺̖͙̦͎̼̺͗̅̌I̵̭̔͂͐̎̐̇͝Ņ̸̛̦̭̬̤̎̋͋̒̈́͌̅͗̉G̵̨̬͇̘̹͔͚̱̬̞̜͗ͅ-̴̧̛̦̪̯̗̲͇̬̙̽͛͐̽̓͊̒̔̾̐̎̃͛̔̚͠?̷̜̫̤̗̩͓̤̗̓̕!̸̪̖̤̠͙̪̝̻͎̬̯̊̉̿̎̇͘̚͜ͅ”**

Error’s glitched voice only gets worse as a tentacle wraps around his midsection, yanking him further into the room. Nightmare raises him into the air, a silent snarl replacing his permafrown.

**“Where. Is. He?”**

Error scowls, a free arm reaching up to pull blue strings from his eye sockets.  **“I dOn’t KNo-nOW wHo THe helL YOu’rE taLkINg AbOuT-t, NighTMaRe, bUt YoU’Re goIn-iNG tO LEt** **_gO,_ ** **YOu dAm-aM-AmN** **_GliTCh!_ ** **”**

This is bad. This is  _ bad. _ Cross grabs hold of a preoccupied Horror’s hoodie, preventing the skeleton from walking any further into the room by yanking him back. He beckons for Horror to take cover when he’s shot a confused (and slightly agitated) look, the two of them peeking in.

Yep, Nightmare’s little stunt instantly pissed off Error. If this doesn’t get resolved in half than a second, then-

“W-WAIT! NIGHTMARE!!”

-and suddenly Killer and Dust burst into the room, panting and out of breath. Killer rests his hands on his knees as Dust calls out, an arm outstretched towards the two.

“AYO, DON’T-...do it, Boss Man...urk.”

Dust grimaces then flops backwards, officially down for the count as he wheezes.  _ Just how far had they run? Why the hell didn’t they teleport? _ Cross can only gape as Killer walks over to the  _ still-murderous Nightmare, _ casually tapping a phalange against the tentacle holding Error.

“Boss, there’s been a misunderstanding-”

**“** **_What_ ** **.”**

“-and we’re gonna explain it, so ya gotta put Error down before he crashes,  _ Nightmare _ .”

Cross glances at Error. Sure enough, even though his free hand has a tight hold on his strings, the small ERROR signs seem to have increased in number and he’s twitching erratically. Nightmare stares Killer down, a tense silence hanging for a few seconds before it’s broken by a sigh.

Nightmare plops Error onto the still-upturned-sofa.  **“Explain.”**

And Killer does. Cross feel’s like he’s watching some action/comedy show, as Error fully comes to only to see Dust pulling the most ridiculous faces at him. Error simply glares, hand gestures no doubt making out just how Dust’s demise would go the second Error gets his hands on him. Nightmare shoots the two a scalding look before refocusing on Killer, who looks both nervous and resigned.

The former guard hears something rustle beside him, a familiar bark following not soon after. Horror sits down to his right with a bag of popcorn, breaking off small pieces to give to Oreo (hey, he’s trying out names since they haven’t come to a consensus yet, give him a break!) as he watches the scene with amusement. Oreo nibbles on it happily, licking Horror’s phalanges in gratitude once they’re done eating and gains his attention.

Cross isn’t sure if the small animal is supposed to be eating popcorn. It’s magic popcorn, though, so he supposes it’s fine. Besides, he doesn’t have the heart to call Horror out on giving Oreo ( _...maybe Marshmallow, Marshmallow’s a good name for a dog right? _ ) potentially dangerous food, not when the other skeleton’s eyelight is twinkling with awe and-...is that  _ adoration? _

“hey Horror,” Cross calls out, making Horror pause midchew. “looks like things are calming down in there.”

Horror looks up from the small dog at him, his gaze curious as it wanders over towards the next room. He nods in confirmation once he sees something, taking a moment to make sure the tiny pomeranian is secure in his hand before reaching out and tugging on Cross’ arm. Cross startles as he’s jerked to the side, Horror giving him time to steady himself before tugging once more.

“move out of the way, rookie; they’re comin’ in.”

Killer is the first to enter, the nervousness from before having faded into a nonchalant look. He’s pulling something behind him, and- oh it’s  _ Nightmare, _ looking less than pleased as he’s led inside with his eye socket closed. Dust dashes in next, cackling and jumping to avoid Error’s strings as the destroyer scowls at him.

Cross resists the urge to shuffle from foot to foot. He doesn’t want to seem as nervous as he feels, the memory of Nightmare trashing the living room still fresh in his mind. “what’s going on?”

Killer sends him a grin, which would’ve come across as ominous if not for the heart-shaped target on his chest. It’s been like that for a while, at least two months max, and Cross has come to learn that the heart signifies a calm, laidback Killer. The Killer who likes to mess with him, not once calling him by name but the only one out of Nightmare’s group to call him “kid”.

No, Killer is at his most dangerous when the shape is a true target.

He’ll never forget the first time he saw it. It was a paired mission, just the two of them, and unfortunately they had drawn the attention of the Star Sanses. The battle ended up being divided, with Killer facing Ink and Blue as he faced Dream. The look in Dream’s eyelights then, when they went from hopeful to shocked, hurt, and then...resigned. It shook Cross badly, to the point that his grip on his weapon faltered ever so slightly, and then-

Pain.

He remembers how he had looked down to see an ink bone protruding from his chest, Dream’s cries falling on deaf ears as he yanks the bone attack the rest of the way through. He had heard Killer growl something, evolving into a murderous roar, and then the former guard saw a true target before-

Darkness.

The next time he came to was in his own bed back at Nightmare’s castle, confused. Horror was on watch at that point, eating a Cinnabun before commenting on his state. Three cracked ribs and a broken femur. Not the best, but definitely not the worst he’s had to deal with. Ah, he also remembers Horror practically shoving food in his mouth while stating “eating makes you feel better”, and wasn’t  _ that _ an experience.

“-id?”

Cross blinks as phalanges snap in his face, Killer’s permagrin widening once he sees the other pull out of his thoughts. “spacin’ out on us? didn’t take you to be the type. i said you’re up next, kid. you’re going against me.” he repeats in amusement, which leads Cross to glance over the other’s shoulder.  _ just what is Killer on abou- _

His jaw drops.

Nightmare and Dust are standing side-by-side, the latter trying to provoke the former to no avail. The lights in the room are dimmed, the flat screen TV a myriad of flashing colors that count down from 3 to 0.

A very familiar song starts to play.

_ “Don’t stop (Don’t stop) Don’t stop the beat, LET’S GO!” _

Dust whoops as he twists his body, planting his hands on the floor for leverage. His legs kick out at Nightmare, who bends so far backwards that for a moment Cross worries their leader broke his spine.

Dust cackles, spinning in place as he continues kicking at Nightmare. “c’mon Boss Man, let loose and have some  _ fun! _ ”

**“Interesting choice of words, coming from the one who wrecked the living room.”** No, Cross is sure that the damage is all on Nightmare, but he wisely remains silent. Nightmare had spoken with disdain lacing his voice, but his teal eyelight flashes with something else as his tentacles fluidly move him into a backflip.  _ could it be-? _

Killer chuckles. The other skeleton seems to be watching the display as well, arms crossed as he leans against the side of the couch. When did he even get there? “surprised, kid? Boss can dance when push comes to shove. though getting him out of his shell to do it is a war and a half, ‘specially when he’s stressed out like this, but...since Dust is a competitive loose cannon on the dance floor-”

He trails off. Cross looks over at him, waiting for the other to elaborate. In the background, Dust yelps as one of Nightmare’s tentacles whips out and trips him up. Horror cackles as he watches from the couch, alternating between feeding himself cheese and ripping off a piece to give to the small animal on his lap. On the opposite end of the couch sits Error, arms folded and a grin on his face as he taunts Dust. Nightmare chuckles as he spins on his heel, ignoring Dust’s cries of outrage at being thrown both off-rhythm and off-balance.

Killer grins.

“y’see, Boss is kind of a competitive little shit himself.”

The words  _ GAME OVER _ reflect on the screen, illuminating the two figures. Dust lays on the ground in defeat while Nightmare stands tall, a smirk on his features.

The negative skeleton looks over at them, anger momentarily forgotten as he relishes in Dust’s loss.  **“The winner will be facing me. Prepare for your defeat ahead of time.”**

Killer’s grin widens as he pulls Cross onto the designated dance floor. The other two have vacated at that point, Error cackling at a grumbling Dust as Nightmare stands by the door with a smug expression. “think you can keep up, kid?”

Cross blinks. Not soon after, his eyelights narrow in determination.

_ “bring it on.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross: *Minding his own business*
> 
> Nightmare: *Is stressed*
> 
> Killer: I am going to approach this like the responsible skeleton I am
> 
> Killer: *Grabs Dust*
> 
> Killer: Hey, you wanna cause some shit so we can have a dance/fight party?
> 
> Cross: *Gets caught in the crossfire*
> 
> Cross:
> 
> (And, alternatively-)
> 
> Nightmare: I am the God of Negativity, the King of Darkness, a menace to all things positive and unable to have fun-
> 
> Nightmare's gang: *drags him to play Dance Dance Revolution*
> 
> Nightmare:
> 
> Nightmare: Hey wait I'm not supposed to be having fun-
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos positive comments on this story! Absolute fluff will be the next chapter to make up for the slight angst in the past two!
> 
> Until next time!


	5. Absent-Minded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust has been spacing out more and more recently. Error could care less. Nightmare is stressed. Hey, at least it's a FRESH new day, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun writing this chapter. I also want to say thank you for the feedback and love on the previous chapter! As for the epic dance battle between Killer and Cross, that will be depicted in a later chapter. That isn't the last you see of them dance-fighting!
> 
> Also, I have a Tumblr up! Nothing's posted on it yet, but you can go and scream about Undertale to me there! It's @wheresleepingboneslie , and I can't wait to talk to you all!
> 
> Without further ado, here's Chapter 5 of Orderly Chaos!

**[Universe - Unknown.]**

**[Location - Doodlesphere.]**

**{Loading...}**

**_Loading Finished!_ **

A fresh _POOF!_ signals a skeleton popping into existence, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the sudden light. His shades help speed up the process, and in a few seconds he’s able to look around freely. Once he spots what he’s looking for he grins, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way over. 

Lately, he’s been jumping all over the place. His previous stop was Reapertale if he remembers right, the colorfully-dressed skeleton handing off a rad letter to Reaper before winking and disappearing. Could Reaper tell he winked? No, but eh; what’s done is done. He figures Reaper delivered his letter to Nightmare by now, the contents depicting his visit to Nightmare’s castle in a week. (He made sure to use so much glitter that it put a unicorn to shame. He’s positive Nightmare will appreciate it, as well as the heads-up. Ain’t he nice or what?)

\- Hold on, was he _rambling?_ Yes, yes he was. Rambling’s cool and all, but he has an audience to entertain. Back to the present, at his destination floats a skeleton, legs crossed as he sits in the air. His tongue sticks out in concentration as he scribbles on a blank piece of paper, his brown scarf floating languidly behind him.

“ayo Ink bro, howzit hangin’?” he greets, watching as the other startles a bit in shock. He smirks. Catching Ink by surprise, while few and in-between, is worth the reactions once he’s succeeded. “what can little ol’ Fresh do for ya?”

“Ah, hey Fresh!” Ink greets, placing a hand over the colored paper. Fresh catches the outline of a TV and a dark blue glow before it disappears out of sight. “I’m glad you can come! I just wanted to ask you something.”

Fresh raises a rad eyebrow. Ink asking him things can range from either getting input on what Nice Cream flavor is the best to something that determines the existence of multiple AUs. It’s what makes him a wild card, unpredictable, _dangerous._

Unfortunately for him, Fresh can be just as unpredictable.

“wut’s up? need your good pal Fresh to look after something?”

Ink blinks twice in astonishment. “Wow, you...hit the nail right on the head.”

Fresh winks, his shades reflecting COOL before shifting to DARN the more he speaks. “i’m just rad like that, broski. i ain’t readin’ your mind tho, that’s outside my abilities.”

Ink beams. “Nonetheless, it’s pretty cool! It’s like you can guess what I want to say before I even say it! Now, onto what I want to ask…”

The air stills.

Fresh feels a chill run down his spine as Ink’s smile falls completely flat. The Doodlesphere becomes stifling, as if threatening to enclose him on all sides until crushing him completely.

**“H o w f a r w o u l d y o u b e w i l l i n g t o g o t o p r e s e r v e w h a t ’ s d e a r t o y o u ?”**

Despite the ~~_danger danger_ **_dANGER-_ ** ~~ tension hanging in the air, Fresh gives the painter a wicked grin as an eye socket flashes purple. Something threatens to push past his shades but he keeps it in, his grin growing wider as he stares at the other skeleton.

Oh, things are getting _interesting._

* * *

“why are _we_ stuck cleaning this room, huh? Boss is the one who destroyed it!”

“hey, kid...don’t let Boss hear ya say that, unless ya want somethin’ else to clean. ‘sides, you’re not the only one who has to replace all the furniture and give the living room a good wipedown.”

“i shouldn’t be cleaning...all i did was-”

“lose against me, yeah, now get to sweepin’.”

Error scowls down at the rag in his grip, scrubbing at a particularly tough stain on the bookshelf next to the fireplace. _He’s_ the one who shouldn’t be here, seeing as he nearly ~~destroyed~~ fought Nightmare over a lie Killer and Dust concocted. How come Horror didn’t have to clean, huh? Was it favoritism? At least leave Error out. _He_ was dragged into this; _he’s_ the victim here.

His eyelights trail over to the two culprits in question, settling on Killer first. The second-in-command lightly taps Cross’ head with the handle of his broom, his next words quieter to the point that the destroyer can’t make out what’s being said. Whatever it is has Cross sighing but resuming his work, missing how Killer’s grin softens at the edges.

Aside from being a filthy glitch he has to constantly fight with himself to keep from eradicating, Error doesn’t know much about Killer. He doesn’t know much about any of them, really, aside from Nightmare and even the floating skeleton bastard. All he can think of for each of them is that Horror’s AU is, as the name implies, a shitshow that left him with an insatiable hunger for food, Cross’ AU was unforgiving and he is the sole survivor (especially after they ripped that disgusting red half from his SOUL, **_hey wait did he technically make a pun earlier-_ **), and Dust-

Hold on.

Error squints, scouring the room. Where the hell _is_ Dust? He’s supposed to be wiping down the newly-replaced windows as well, and yet he doesn’t see the hooded idiot anywhere in sight. Is he skipping on their shared punishment?

The destroyer growls. **_For his sake, he better not be._ ** Error will _personally_ make sure he won’t be able to feel his arms after stretching them tight with his strings if that’s the case.

As if on cue, Dust walks back in with a hum and a spring in his step. He stops once he sees the working skeletons, confusion flitting over his features.

“what are you guys-”

“we’re cleaning the living room.” Killer grunts as he and Cross lift the couch in unison, wincing at the amount of dust that was allowed to accumulate underneath. “remember? you even went to grab an additional cloth after the one you had ripped on ya.”

Something strange passes over Dust’s face, though it’s gone faster than Error can comprehend it. Whatever it is doesn’t escape Killer’s notice, however, because the other skeleton frowns.

“...huh. guess i forgot.”

Anger wells up in Error. Dust had been gone for a good twenty minutes, half of which is excusable because the castle is huge and the rags were nearly on the opposite side of where they resided; the other ten can’t be explained as anything other than slacking, no matter which way the destroyer looks at it. He slams the rag down and sends the most threatening glare he can manage at Dust.

**“HoW dO YOu fOr-oRGeT iN THe sPaN oF ThREe seCoNds-S, NuM-Um-UMbSKull? Go gRAb a RaG bE-efoRe I deLEt-eTe yOuR-R-r coDe.”**

Dust’s eyelights widen before he rushes out of the room, quickly stating that he’ll be back soon. Killer shakes his skull in exasperation, giving the floor a few good sweeps.

“ya didn’t have to be so harsh with ‘im. he usually forgets things; this ain’t the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

Error gestures to the empty air beside him, where Dust _would_ have been working _if_ _he_ _remembered to get his damn rag._ **“ThAT fa-A-ASt? DoN’t mAKe Me LAugH-UgH.”**

For a while, Killer doesn’t deign to reply. Well, that’s fine; Error always preferred the quiet. _Fate above,_ he hears enough noise from the voices. When the second-in-command finally speaks, his voice is tight. Clipped. “jus’ give ‘im a chance.”

Error goes to retort when Dust rushes back in, looking disheveled but happy all the same. He holds Annoyance up in his grasp, the small dog barking happily around the rag that rests in their mouth.

“guys! guys! you won’t _believe_ what I just found out Sparky can do!”

Sparky? **_What an unoriginal name._ ** Error bites back a growl as he scrubs at a particularly grimy spot, the ERROR signs amassing around his hand whenever it nearly makes contact with the unknown substance. It looks like old ketchup, if he has to guess. **_Fucking disgusting._ **

“is it “magically clean the place for us without Nightmare growing suspicious”? please tell me it is.” Cross asks, hope filling his voice and pulling a snicker from Killer. When Dust sends him a confused stare, the ex-guard hangs his head. **_That’s what he gets for getting his hopes up in the first place. Stupid glitch._ **

“jeez rookie, use your skull!” Dust raises Annoyance up like they’re the messiah. Error can’t believe this is happening right now, when they’re supposed to be cleaning. “no, Sparks here can do something _much cooler.”_

And he lets go.

Cross and Killer tense, ready to dive and catch the dog, only for their eye sockets to widen while their mouths hang open. Error would’ve laughed at them if he wasn’t in the same position himself.

**_The damn thing is floating._ **

Sure enough, the dog is bobbing up and down in the air, their tail wagging back and forth with fervor. They bark happily, blissfully unaware of the stunned state they left the room in before twisting to lick Dust’s cheekbone, the hooded skeleton chuckling as he pats their head with a phalange. He quickly catches the rag they dropped from their mouth with his free hand, tucking it into his pocket.

“that’s…” Cross can’t even form words. Killer is quick to usher him back into cleaning, keeping an eye socket on the dog. He doesn’t have any eyelights, but Error can tell by the small twist of his mouth upwards that he’s in awe.

“i’d guess the dog came from an Outertale AU, then.” Dust nods at Killer’s statement, twisting on the heel of his shoe in a small pirouette before cleaning the top of the coffee table in one wipe.

“bingo! Sparky’s fur even shines like a galaxy once you give ‘em enough pets!”

Error scowls (which is just his normal look, but he’ll destroy anyone who points it out) as the others give noises of wonder and amazement. Well, so long as they keep that annoying dog away from him he doesn’t care what they do with them. He returns his attention to the task at hand, ready to scrub-

“i’m so _boredddd.”_

“Dust, it’s only been-” Killer takes a quick look at the antique clock hanging on the wall, “-two seconds.”

His words just make Dust groan even more, the sound grating on Error’s nonexistent nerves. “but Killer, that’s two seconds too long. do you know what you can get done in two seconds? a whole ton! a _metta-ton!_ why can’t we, y’know, go to an AU and do our thing?”

 **_That’s it, I’m seriously going to kill him._ ** He can handle Nightmare’s wrath for killing one of his subordinates, right? Right. That’ll be _leagues_ better than the fuckery going on here, at least. Error’s phalanges twitch, a hand already reaching up to pull the strings gathering there when he hears footsteps.

 **“Stop what you’re doing and come here.** **_All_ ** **of you.”**

All other skeletons (save for Error) do as they're told and immediately report to Nightmare, who sounds like a bomb ready to explode. It looks like Killer and Dust’s plan to get him to relax worked very little, if the tense way the corrupted skeleton holds himself at the moment is anything to go by.

Their leader holds up a letter. Even Error can see the obscene amount of glitter on it from his spot across the room.

Nightmare’s next words are a hiss. **“Fresh is paying us a visit next week. Horror will be watching the house in our absence. We’re destroying an AU.** **_Now.”_ **

Dust whoops in excitement, and the others drop their cleaning supplies. Nightmare shoots Error a withering glare, jerks his head to the side as he opens a portal, and Error sets down his rag before following the rambunctious group.

The destroyer grins.

Now _this_ is an idea he can get behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Ending for the Fresh and Ink encounter:
> 
> Ink: *becomes serious*  
> Fresh: …!  
> Ink:  
> Ink: w h a t w o u l d y o u d o f o r a K l o n d i k e B a r ?
> 
> Fresh's "bedazzling" letter made Nightmare snap. Hoo boy. Killer seems to be watching out for Cross...? And why does Error seem so irritated with Dust in particular?
> 
> The shenanigans and hijinks ensue in Chapter 6 of Orderly Chaos!


	6. Battles and Uno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get to destroy an AU! But something strange happens...What could it mean for the future?
> 
> ...Well, they can figure that out later. For now, it's Uno time!
> 
> It's not like anything bad is going to happen to their ragtag team, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been trying to catch up Digitale, and I also have a tumblr up where you can scream to me about Undertale! It's https://wheresleepingboneslie.tumblr.com/ !
> 
> Alright, I've held you up long enough. Here's Chapter 6 of Orderly Chaos!

It has been so _long_ since they destroyed an AU.

How long, you might be wondering? Dust sure as hell doesn’t know. It could’ve been four days, it could’ve been five weeks; things...tended to get jumbled in his skull. More so than usual, even. It’s getting to be a problem.

...Wait, problem? What problem? There’s a problem?

_What was he just thinking about again?_

“behind you!”

A bone attack gets cut in half seconds before it can hit him, the fragments disintegrating immediately. Dust doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Cross shifts his grip on his weapon as he slashes three more bone attacks, hardly breaking a sweat. “Dust, are you okay?” The ex-guard asks, because the rookie cares and isn’t that just _adorable._

Dust frowns. _Kinda scattered and confused,_ he thinks.

“yep, jus’ peachy Rookie,” he says instead. He gives Cross a hearty slap on the back, causing him to stumble. “nice save.”

“not like ya t’ space out in the middle of a fight, Dust!” Killer calls out as he pivots in place, cutting the crimson bandanna of a rough-looking Sans.

_Swapfell._ That’s right; Nightmare wanted a universe that wouldn’t be too easy to conquer, but not impossible either. He picked the first offshoot Fell universe he spotted, opened a portal (rather harshly, but hey, Boss wouldn’t be Boss if he wasn’t angry about something at least once per day), and practically shoved them all inside. _that glittery letter from the parasite must’ve pissed him off more than he let on._

“i hear ya, i hear ya!” Dust groans as he uses the last of his self-control to focus on the task at hand, but even then he’s slipping. Fighting’s cool and all, but that dance-fight battle they had with each other a couple days ago was _addicting._ Killer’s idea for that was genius, and Dust wonders how much pestering Boss can take before he relents and lets them do it again.

Out of the corner of his eye socket, he sees Nightmare mercilessly tear through five Gaster Blasters with his tentacles. He winces. _yeah, probs not anytime soon._

“oh, for the love of- _DUST, DUCK!”_

Dust immediately drops into a low crouch at Killer’s shout, nearly getting snagged on the dark blue strings that rocket over his head and catch the projectile bone attacks. He rolls to the side before getting to his feet, the strings manipulating the bones to be thrown back at their owner at double the speed they were originally thrown with.

Error smirks. **“SlACk-AckIng oN tHe jOB?”**

Dust flips him the bird. “shove off,” he growls as he gets to his feet. The Destroyer’s grin widens at the sight, and now Dust is wondering if he didn’t accidentally end up in some role-reversal AU where _Error_ of all people is the one annoying him.

Papyrus would tear him a new one if he saw him. Oh, he can just hear his brother now. **_FOCUS ON THE TASK AT HAND, SANS. WHAT A PATHETIC DISPLAY THAT WAS, SANS. THIS IS WHY YOU NEED ME TO GUIDE YOU THROUGH BATTLE, SANS._ **

He’s glad he can’t hear him anymore.

“tch.” Swapfell Papyrus scowls, his left eye socket blazing a muted orange. “we’re a bit outnumbered, M’Lord.”

“I CAN SEE THAT.” Swapfell Sans replies, the bite in his voice gone. It must be because of the near miss his skull had with Killer’s knife. “IF YOU HAVE ANY TRICKS UP YOUR SLEEVE, I SUGGEST PULLING THEM OUT NOW.”

Swapfell Papyrus chuckles. “got one i can think of.”

He starts pulling out a phone, and Dust is moving before he can properly register it, his footfall increasing in speed. Instinct tells him that nothing good will happen if that phone is used, and that Boss is going to end up even more pissed instead of releasing some pent-up stress. One thought enters his mind, playing on loop:

_kill him before reinforcements come._

Swapfell Sans seems to realize this too, because after launching himself to kick Cross in the abdomen he uses the momentum to backflip over Killer’s head, landing in front of his brother. The air around him crackles as he and his brother move in tandem, the smaller skeleton summoning a wave of bones while the taller one extends his hand to conjure ten Gaster Blasters.

Dust continues rushing forward, all outside sound fading away until only the whine of the Blasters and his resounding footsteps remain. 

Time seems to slow down around him. His eyes are trained on one thing, and one thing only: _the phone in Swapfell Papyrus’ hand._

He twists and avoids the first bone, the second and third one ripped out of the air by strings and thrown to the side. He keeps going even as four Gaster Blasters train on him, knowing that he’d be safe. As if hearing his inner thoughts, numerous knives fly past him and embed themselves into the Blasters. Some of the whining noise dies as they explode, Killer and Cross appearing on either side of him for a brief second before they launch themselves at the other Blasters. They’re completely in sync - due to all the missions Boss sends them out on together, if he has to guess - and Dust wouldn’t be lying if he says he’s a little jealous.

Swapfell Sans sends another wave of bones at him, aiming to protect his brother, but before they can reach Dust a guttural hiss pierces all of their skulls. One, two, three-... _fifteen_ tentacles shoot out from the ground in front of the hooded skeleton, smashing the bones to smithereens and providing a pathway high above Swapfell Sans’ head.

Dust smirks. _Boss is rollin’ out the red carpet for me? aw, consider me touched._

Still, though, it’s a blatant sign that Nightmare is done toying with their prey. Good; Dust was going to kill them even if he wasn’t. He would’ve gotten chewed out for it later on (and done eighty laps around the entire castle wearing a horrible colored Hawaiian shirt while having to listen to Error’s distorted laughter on repeat, but that’s a story for another time), but he’d understand…

At least, he hoped he would.

But that’s not the issue right now; he has to focus, to do his job right as their vanguard ( _ha, he’ll never forget the way Cross’ eyes widened with something akin to awe as Nightmare introduced Dust to him, but wait he needs to_ **_focus damnit_ ** ). He rockets himself off the tip of Nightmare’s tentacles, hands thrown up above him to summon two sharp bones. Swapfell Sans turns to reach for his brother, to push him out of the way, but blue strings curl almost serenely around his body before snapping taut, digging into the monster’s armor and bones. Dust doesn’t spare Error a second glance as the Destroyer lifts his prize into the air, turning to deflect the bone attacks shooting up towards him.   
  
He appears in front of Swapfell Papyrus, the taller skeleton blocking with his free hand. His eye sockets narrow as a fearful grin threatens to split his skull in two, the bone attack he materialized cracking under the pressure Dust puts on it. 

He cackles. These Swapfell variations put up a much better fight than they thought, being the last to die in this AU. This is exhilarating. This is _fun._

To be honest, he kinda doesn’t want the fun to end.

**“Dust.”**

Both he and Swapfell Papyrus freeze at the voice. Nightmare’s tone is flat, but not in the joking way he’s used to. This one penetrates his bones, sinking into his marrow and clinging there like a vice.

**“This is no time for games,”** the Boss Man growls. **“Finish the job.** **_Now.”_ **

\- Well. Dust can’t argue with that.

He switches the grip he has on his weapon, letting gravity fully take him to the ground. Swapfell Papyrus’ bone attack is heavily cracked but it still manages to maintain its shape, moving to swat him aside, but he raises to block with his ulna and is pushed back a few feet.

He goes in for the kill, permagrin widening-

_Skkt!_

Bone marrow splatters to the ground. Dust stares at it for a second in shock, wondering if he actually hit the taller skeleton. That...That _is_ Swapfell Papyrus’ bone marrow, right? On the ground?

_If it is, then why is his vision blurring?_

It’s then that the pain settles in, searing his left eye socket. He howls as he grips his skull with one hand, dropping his bone attack while the other blocks a secondary strike.

He whips around to find the culprit, his remaining eyelight zeroing on the skeleton in Error’s grasp.

Swapfell Sans smiles, his hand stretched out towards the hooded skeleton. His expression unusually warm, his eye sockets closing in peace.

“RUN...PAPYRUS.”

The last words uttered by the smaller skeleton seconds before Error breaks him into tiny bone fragments ends up being Dust’s downfall. Something seems to snap inside Swapfell Papyrus as he throws his hand in front of him, and Dust feels his SOUL grow heavy as he’s rocketed back. He’s hurt, he can’t make sense of heads nor tails, and he wants the pain and confusion to stop, wants everything to _just be quiet already,_ wants-

**“Stu-UpId gLItCh, MaK-Ak-AKiNg me dO aLl tHE woRk-K.”**

He crashes against something soft, and everything goes dark.

* * *

_*..._

_*..._

_“...so. how long do you plan on napping for?”_

_Dust snaps awake at the unfamiliar voice, jumping to his feet and summoning two Gaster Blasters. He cautiously scans for the source of noise, taking in his surroundings._

_It’s dark, he can tell that much. And it feels...cold. Impersonal. Empty. He doesn’t know how far away the walls are, or the ceiling for that matter; it’s all black._

_*It's a beautiful evening outside._

_He doesn’t like it here._

_Something shifts in the darkness. “woah, woah, calm down there! i was only asking how long you were gonna be unconscious for. i didn’t expect you to wake up then, promise.”_

_Dust scowls, keeping the Gaster Blasters primed. “liar.”_

_He knows a liar when he hears one. He’s made plenty of promises he didn’t intend to keep, and that experience is what’s kept him alive so far._

_Someone chuckles, and a blue eyelight shines just out of reach. Dust almost mistakes it for one of those gemstones humans have - sapphire, is it? He can’t remember. He can’t remember a lot of things._

_“aw, you caught me. promises are made to be broken, after all; a rotten deal, wouldn’t you agree?”_

_“who are you?” Dust barks out, materializing a bone attack into his hands as the whine of his Blasters overhead drown out any ambiance the place holds. The longer he stays in this place, the more he feels like he’s being peeled back layer by layer, and that shouldn’t even be possible for a skeleton._

_The chuckling turns into lighthearted laughter. “no one important. just the one who is going to erase your existence.”_

_Something moves in the darkness, and Dust whips his hand. The Gaster Blasters immediately shoot, the sound of the resulting explosion bouncing around in his skull. He tilts his skull to the side, listening for any other noise._

_Silence._

_He lowers his hand, charging up the Blasters for another attack just in case. “answer me truthfully the next time, dumbass,” he grumbles as he takes a step forward, shoving his fists into the pockets of his shorts._

_“i did.”_

_He freezes as a hand pats his shoulder cordially, the voice light and pleasant._

_“i’m wounded that you’d shoot on sight,” the other complains right behind him. Dust knows he should move, but for some reason his feet are rooted to the ground. What’s going on? “that’s something Dust would do. though, considering the circumstances, i have to commend you for that.”_

_How do they know his name? What do they mean by that? How did he not hear them move? Dust has questions and then some, but before he can speak the hand removes itself._

_He can hear the smile in their voice, leaning closer to rumble by the side of his skull. “you got three days to say your farewells, buddy.”_

_An Echo Flower blooms in the path ahead, the only other source of light in the strange corridor. Seconds later, the sickly sweet scent of rot hits his nasal bone._

_The floor falls out from beneath him._

* * *

**“DrAw tWo-O, GLIt-iTcH.”**

“...i picked up. your turn, Boss.”

**“Very well, then. I change the color to red.”**

“i can’t believe i have uno! i’m gonna win!”

“nope, kid,” Killer says as he places a card down. Cross’ cheering dies as he sees the primarily black card. “draw 4. nothin’ personal.”

The ex-guard groans, nearly slamming his skull on their makeshift table before stopping himself. He regretfully picks up four cards, ignoring Killer’s snickers as he takes care not to poke the surface the cards were placed on.

Killer’s snickers die down as he looks at their “table” with conflicting emotions, taking in the steady rise and fall of Dust’s ribcage. Swapfell Sans caught them all off-guard with his little stunt, wounding Dust pretty badly in his left eye socket with a surprise bone attack, and their brief second of shock is what led to the Star Sanses being summoned by Swapfell Papyrus’ distress signal. Error had thankfully caught Dust when he was thrown back, the hooded skeleton knocked out the instant his body made impact with Error’s strings. It quickly turned from a fight to destroy to a fight to retreat, Killer’s femur getting nicked by one of Dream’s arrows as they escaped through Nightmare’s portal.

First order of business had been treating Dust. Horror took one look at their thunderous expressions upon arrival and turned on his heel, making his way towards the kitchen to prepare some milkshakes for them all as they bandaged Dust's eye socket to the best of their ability. Cross and Error consumed their chocolate ones like it was the end of the world, Nightmare hiding his delight with his chocolatey treat better, while Killer nursed his strawberry one. Horror sat down across from him, drinking his vanilla one as he set a spare chocolate one off to the side.

_for Dust,_ he’d said when not-so-subtle glances towards the full dessert were made, _when he wakes up._

**_if_ ** _he wakes up soon,_ Killer thinks sourly as he reaches to draw eight cards. To his left Nightmare’s smirk curls further, the boss being the perpetrator of the +2 Chain. _sometimes the numbskull sleeps in when he’s injured and doesn’t know how much he worries us._

He needs to stop that line of thought. Cross has told him before that he has “mother hen tendencies”, and he didn’t believe him until the rookie pointed it out as he fussed over Error having chocolate smudged on the side of his skull. He was a _murderer,_ for crying out loud; any care and love he originally had should’ve been traded for the LOVE he gained.

“what’s this, a pity party?”

All noise stops as a portal cleaves open off to the side, a cloaked figure floating through in a languid manner. Once vacant eye sockets land on the group situated on the floor, their owner's permagrin stretches in thinly veiled amusement. Cross tenses as Horror shifts to put him out of the new arrival’s line of sight.

“come on now,” Reaper chuckles. The condescending sound grates on Killer’s nerves. “t’s not like anyone _died,_ y’know?”

**“Not the time, Reaper.”** Nightmare says irritably as he turns back towards the game, prompting the others to do the same. Error’s scowl seems harsher than usual, his stare boring holes into the cards he’s holding. **“Either sit down and shut up or leave.”**

Reaper puts a hand on his chest, gasping in mock-offense. “ya wound me. can’t i say hi to an old pal?”

Killer tunes out of the rest of that conversation then and shifts his gaze from the quietly seething Error to Cross and Horror, who have been joined by Luna. The small dog makes sure to sit in-between them, Cross using one hand to gently pet her while the other places itself on Horror’s shoulder. Horror glances back at him, looking slightly confused as he proceeds to dart his eyelight around the room, and Cross shakes his head.

Killer doesn’t know how their friendship developed to the point where they can communicate non-verbally, but he’s just glad someone’s looking out for the kid...and for Horror, too. _Stars_ knows the amount of times Horror’s beaten himself up over forgetting something, tugging at his dead eye socket as both punishment and as a way to jog his memory. It isn't healthy, and Killer's told him that plenty of times, but he only ever seems to come to when Cross confronts him.

**“Out.”**

Boss’ smug voice to the side has him refocusing on the situation at hand. Their leader seems to have gone out, the others giving groans as Reaper snickers somewhere behind him. Had he been playing on autopilot this entire time?

**“You would’ve been able to win if you were paying attention, Killer.”** Nightmare mutters to him as the others begin to pick up. **“What is troubling you?”**

Killer looks over at him, a small portion of him shocked. It’s not often Nightmare brings up his thoughts in front of others, so whatever he was doing must’ve really concerned him; to be honest, he’d feel touched if he wasn’t trying to cover it up.

He sends his leader a grin. “nothin’ much, Boss. y’know how it is.”

Nightmare’s eyelight trails from Killer to his unconscious subordinate, his expression softening for a brief second. **“...Of course.”**

Aw, geez, now Nightmare looks troubled. He didn’t want to worry him, but now he’s gone and done it; if he doesn’t do something soon to show he’s fine then Nightmare’s gonna force the truth out of him, and he _really_ doesn’t feel like having a SOUL to SOUL at the moment. In the end he sighs and goes to speak, regaining Boss’ attention-

“-CKER!”

-and can only watch as Dust sits up and punches the air so abruptly that the rest of the cards on his ribcage slide off of him, scattering in all directions. Luna nibbles on one happily before Error plucks the card from their mouth with his strings, grimacing as dog drool begins to drip onto the dark blue material. Cross quietly chastises the dog for eating the card, not noticing how Horror shoves three into his mouth and begins to chew. Killer doesn’t stop him, because he thinks it’s funny and funny is what he needs right now to distract him from Nightmare’s concern that he most certainly _does not need._

**“Good to see that you’re functioning at high capacity after your little siesta, Dust.”** Nightmare says flatly, making Dust jump. Killer chuckles at his reaction, only to pause when Dust’s eyelights dart around the room before he gives a strained laugh.

“ey, sometimes ya gotta take a power nap Boss Man,” the hooded skeleton says in defense, getting to his feet. It doesn’t hold as much gusto as it usually does. “though i guess i really _butchered_ the timing, huh.”

Error groans at the poorly timed pun, Horror giving a few muffled chuckles as he munches on some more Uno cards. Cross finally seems to notice and plays tug-of-war with him, a red reverse’s life hanging in the balance as it’s yanked both ways.

Nightmare’s answering scowl can murder babies in its sleep. **“What did I say? No.** **_Puns.”_ **

"ya did? i don' remember." Dust shrugs, his grin unapologetic. “eh, your loss.”

Nightmare stands up and Dust shrinks back, stammering out apologies. Their leader’s expression is unreadable as he approaches the other, Dust closing his eye sockets in anticipation for a slap-

A hand places itself on top of the other’s skull, giving it a few pats. Dust blinks in mild shock and Nightmare looks like he wants to say something, but refrains.

**“...Don’t be so foolish again. Understand?”** He says instead, dropping his hand and moving past Dust. The injured skeleton’s permagrin widens, wincing a bit as it pulls at his wound but nonetheless keeping it there.

“feels good t’ be back.”

Error chooses that time to smack him upside the head with his scarf, and Cross is immediately asking questions on how he feels as Horror hands him his chocolate milkshake. A few feet away Nightmare nods at Reaper before glancing at Killer, tilting his head towards the side in invitation.

Killer’s response comes in the form of an intrigued hum. He smiles at the others before excusing himself, teleporting away from the unexpectedly touching moment.

He’ll meet the other two there. If Nightmare wants to have a secret meeting with only him _and_ Reaper in his office, then it can only mean that he’s ready to tell Killer about the mysterious papers Reaper’s been giving him.

And maybe, just maybe, by knowing the source of stress he can ease the burden on Boss’ shoulders a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm gonna finish this chapter today! :D
> 
> Me, at 5am: I ' M D O N E
> 
> Thank you all for your support and kind words! Now that I'm back into the groove, other chapters may come out quicker but be shorter in length. It's time for me to hold off the plot for a while!
> 
> Until next time on Orderly Chaos!


	7. Playing Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step towards making friends is always the hardest. Reaper knows that better than anyone.
> 
> So why does it feel impossible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been an entire month?! I really need to get back on my game! Digitale's next chapter is slowly approaching 5k words, and though it's been slow going it's turning out great! Moving Forward is getting worked on after this chapter goes up; I haven't abandoned any of the stories!
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely kudos and comments! Without further ado, here's Chapter 7 of Orderly Chaos!

**“What were you thinking, showing up unannounced?”** Nightmare hisses once a fully-debriefed Killer exits his office, shutting the door behind his right-hand skeleton with a tentacle. The resounding _click_ echoes throughout the room. **“Now my subordinates are on edge. I’m not sure what you have done to Cross, but he looks like someone harmed his pet whenever you enter the room.”**

Reaper floats above Nightmare’s desk with a sigh, reaching a hand out to push a document around. He expected this talk - saw it coming even - but being on the receiving end of Nightmare’s lectures never stops being horrible. And he says _Killer_ is the worrywart?

Still though, he should probably answer unless he wants to add minutes onto his friend’s tirade. He grins, vacant eye sockets crinkling. “y’know how rookies are, Night; always jumpy. ‘sides, i enter unannounced all the time. nothin’s changed.”

He watches in amusement as Nightmare drags a hand down his skull. **“Nothing may have changed with you,”** he speaks through gritted teeth, **“but my allies have. As such, you are going to have to adjust accordingly.”**

A glare is shot his way as Nightmare moves around the desk to sit down, and Reaper floats as close as he dares to the other’s side. The cloaked skeleton will never stop marvelling at how calm Nightmare is with their closeness, treating him no different than the others. Honestly? It’s a far cry from when they first met.

* * *

**_[Universe - ERROR_7074: FILE NAME MANUALLY CORRUPTED. UNABLE TO LOAD PROPERLY.]_ **

**_[Location - Battle Arena.]_ **

**_{Loading...}_ **

**_Loading finished!_ **

_Run._

_Run._

**_It’s dark._ **

_Turn._

**_Where is he?_ **

_Run._

**_Why is it so dark?_ **

_Dodge!_

_His uncovered feet nearly slip against the ground as he turns a corner, ducking under a wild swing and yanking his weapon up. The curved blade sinks into something soft, and a distorted cry is heard before the melting monster in front of him finally dusts._

_Applause. He also hears cheering, but he opts to ignore them as he shoulders his scythe. The cuffs dig into his tarsus and carpals, a steady green glow emitting from the ring of buttons._

_“And the winner is...REAPER!!”_

_He closes his eye sockets, humming as he sends a prayer to the dead_ ~~_amalgamate_ ~~ _monster. Something’s thrown to the floor, but Reaper’s done this enough times to know that they’re fake flowers. Sometimes even a body part goes flying in, blood fresh on the appendage, but he’s long since become numb to that._

_He doesn’t feel anything anymore._

_“The crowd favorite does it again!” Oh, the announcer’s still going. Must mean that he has another person to fight. “Our very own Angel of Death, getting another victory even with the inhibitors on! But how will he fare against his next opponent?”_

_Reaper can care less. All he wants to do is fulfill his quota of “guiding SOULs to the afterlife” for the day and get back to his cell; that way, he can sit back and wonder aloud about what in the multiverse he must’ve done before his creation to lead to this._

_(He’d always get a shock for it. Toys aren’t supposed to think, after all, and he’s modeled after one of the best so he gets the added joy of having an eye kept on him at all times.)_

_The gate across the arena opens, and another monster is shoved through it. Reaper notes how this is the first skeleton monster they’ve pitted him against, taking in the black substance that oozes from their very being. A single teal eyelight bores into him, searching, and the challenger tilts their head in curiosity._

_Reaper gets the feeling of something poking and prodding at his SOUL. He lets it happen, unresponsive to the discomfort. There’s not much to hide, not when he’s been monitored all his life._

_His neutral expression doesn’t waver, and soon the sensation fades. The overhead mic crackles, and he takes it as his cue to ready up. Interest or no, they’re going to be cut down; all he has to do is wait for the signal, and then he’ll use a few fancy moves he knows the crowd likes before swooping in for the kill._

_Reaper’s Touch would be faster, but with the inhibitors on he’s left without his magic and only the weapon in his hands._

_A tap is heard against the mic before a voice speaks. “On the left side we have our new challenger, brought in by-!” Static. The buzzing noise fills his skull, scuttling around like insects, and it makes him reach up to pull at his eye socket for a distraction. He can never hear the names of the ones who brought in competitors; something about confidentiality and a test through the new cuff models, a caretaker explained to him before._

_“...and for his first match, he’ll be facing our own myth, our own legend...REEEEAAAAAPPPPEEEEERRRR!!”_

_The crowd goes wild, drunk on bloodlust. The challenger cocks his head, eyelight brightening even as he doesn’t shift out of his bored stance._

_“3...2...1...FIIIIIGHT!”_

_And Reaper takes off. He’s moving like he’s running on water, light steps barely hitting the ground before pushing off again. Make a few shallow swipes, feign ignorance, then strike when the other has their guard lowered-_

**_“Did you think your strategy would work on me?”_ **

_A tentacle wraps around Reaper’s midsection, cutting off his momentum and lifting him high into the air. He would’ve cut off the offending appendage if another one hadn’t reached over to twist his hands so harshly that he dropped his weapon._

_He blinks._

**_Ah, right. Range._ **

_The audience is deathly silent. Reaper knows what this means; they’ll dispose of the challenger then discipline him, because Angels of Death are supposed to be champions and champions can’t lose_ **_no matter what._ **

_So he goes limp in the other’s grasp, accepting his fate. The challenger gives a grunt at his actions, and Reaper can’t tell if it was one of amusement or mockery._

**_“While I enjoy my fair share of negativity,”_ ** _the challenger starts, walking over to one side of the arena,_ **_“this particular brand is nothing but vile.”_ **

_Reaper says nothing. Why should he? The other will be dead soon anyways. The device the humans place on challengers should be primed at this point, and they’re pressing it right about..._

_Now._

_As if hearing his thoughts, there’s the click of a button over the mic._

_*..._

_*..._

_*..._

**_*But nothing happened._ **

_The other skeleton’s mouth curls into a smirk._ **_“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your feeble attempts at control?”_ **

_The next thing Reaper remembers are the screams. The arena is soon washed red with blood, and standing at the center of it all is the challenger._

_He tries to squirm out of the tentacle. It doesn’t budge. “...so. why’d ya spare me?”_

_He expects the challenger to say that he has use of him; the other certainly seems like the type to say that, anyways. So imagine his surprise when the challenger looks away, eyelight searching for something beyond their reach._

**_“...Consider it a whim. Though I can end your misery, if that’s what you would prefer. If not, then I have an offer for you, Angel of Death.”_ **

_Reaper stays quiet. All his life he’s been fighting in this arena at the order of others; this is the first taste of freedom he’s ever had._

_Would he be willing to throw it all away for an offer?_

_He raises his gaze to find the challenger already looking at him, patient. He-...He really doesn’t mind if he takes his offer or not. He’s seriously leaving it up to him…?_

_A grin stretches across his skull. “i gotta warn ya, i ain’t a big fan of bein’ tied down t’ one place.”_

_The challenger sets him on the ground, bringing the tentacle back to his side. There’s a smirk on his skull, but unlike before this one isn’t as malicious._

**_“Then let I, Nightmare, promise you something.”_ **

_He proposes his deal. The darkness cracks, and Reaper can swear he sees a light spill forth as he shakes Nightmare’s hand._

* * *

_...man, what a trip down memory lane._

But that particular memory is unwanted, unimportant, so Reaper raises his hands in a placating manner. “alright, alright, gotcha; i’ll adjust.” Nightmare picks up his pen and nods, satisfied with his answer as he starts completing paperwork.

Reaper’s next words are a small mutter. “...at some point.”

He smirks as Nightmare’s sudden gaze (which is intense enough to pile drive babies straight into the afterlife) lands on him, his own expression smug. The other should’ve seen this coming, really. When _hasn’t_ he taken the opportunity to get on his nerves?

**“For your sake, it better be soon,”** Nightmare growls. **“lest one of my idiotic subordinates deems it a sound idea to lob off your head.”**

Reaper chuckles, floating a few feet away to touch his feet to the floor. He turns his back to his friend, hands held behind his skull as he looks up.

“they wouldn’t be able to, anyways. Paps would be real sad.”

He misses the way Nightmare’s eyelight dims as he feels the other’s sudden spike in negativity. **“All the more reason to turn this foolish behavior around.”**

Reaper turns back to him with a grin and a wave. “hear ya loud and clear, Night. i’ll do my best for you…”

_An artificial light. Darkness. A world filled with blood. Spiderweb cracks that let light spill forth as a hand holds out to him, waiting. Freeing._

He closes his eye sockets, his grin widening as he opens the door behind him.

“promise.”

The door clicks shut as Reaper exits, leaving behind a concerned friend.

* * *

Dust and Killer are talking in hushed tones on the living room couch, giving the occasional snicker. From what Nightmare’s told Reaper this is never a good sign, much less when it’s these two doing the snickering.

He peeks around the corner at them, thankful for the dark interior of the castle. He can blend into the background whenever he wants to; it’s usually how he goes about gathering information, a skill he picked up from Nightmare himself.

“welp,” Dust says as he claps Killer’s back, his voice loud enough to carry over to the cloaked skeleton. “gotta get back t’ the ol’ grind. let me know what happens in that show o’ yours later, yeah?”

Killer gives him a nod, grinning as he salutes at the hooded skeleton’s retreating back. Soon he’s left all alone in the living room, fiddling with his phone.

Reaper’s eye sockets narrow, locking onto his target.

_Attempt One: A Friendly Chat With One Of Nightmare’s Subordinates._

“heya buddy, mind if i take a seat?”

To his credit, Killer doesn’t jump. Instead he eyes him curiously as the cloaked skeleton pops into view, sizing him up. “...sure,” he says slowly, carefully, like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “why not.”

Compared to when he was talking with Dust, his replies are short. Clipped. Reaper suppresses a wince, floating over and plunking himself down on the furthest sofa away from Killer. His first impression on them really isn’t doing him any favors, is it? Well he’s here to change that, so he better get started!

…

. . .

_how exactly does one get started again?_

“what’s up?”

_...yep, not like that._

Killer turns his skull towards him again. “...th’ ceiling?”

Reaper rolls his eyelights...or he would’ve, if he had any. “yeah, sure, floor sky. ‘m bein’ serious.”

The other skeleton looks like he saw Reaper grow two additional skulls. His grin twitches a bit, but Reaper isn’t sure if it’s because he’s being serious or if it’s due to him calling the ceiling “floor sky”. In his defense, he isn’t wrong.

Killer doesn’t answer for a moment. Eventually that “moment” stretches on for so long that Reaper internally sighs, lining up another question. Just as he’s about to say it, Killer breaks the silence.

“jus’ searchin’ the web.”

“cool.”

Silence.

. . .

_okay. great. now this is awkward._

While Reaper’s used to an uncomfortable atmosphere - most of the time he loves it when he’s the cause - the weight of his promise to Nightmare hangs heavy. It’s a tall order, considering his standing with them all, but a promise is a promise and he’ll see it through to the end.

“hey...i-”

He’s interrupted by a sharp ring, snapping his skull towards Killer’s phone. The other casually picks it up and presses the call button.

“kid? what’s up?”

_“Killer, oh thank stars you picked up,”_ Reaper hears Cross sigh with relief from the other end of the line. He turns and counts the number of cracks he can see in the ceiling to make it look like he’s not eavesdropping. _“Horror got into Boss’ secret energy drink stash again and now he’s bouncing off the walls. i don’t want to disturb Boss, Error’s out, and i even tried calling Dust but he wouldn’t pick up. we’re in the second rec room, in the left wing. can you help m- HORROR! THE PING PONG TABLE ISN’T AN ACTUAL PING PONG BALL, PUT IT DOWN! w-wait, not there..._ **_HORROR_ ** _-”_

The line cuts out. Killer chuckles as he gets to his feet, not once looking over at Reaper. “welp. duty calls an’ all that. see ya.”

Soon he’s out of sight, and Reaper sighs as he sinks back into the couch.

_Attempt One: Failed._

* * *

_Attempt Two: Offer To Show Something Cool._

It’s pitch-black in Nightmare’s castle, nighttime officially taking hold over the domain. Most of the gang is asleep, but Dust woke up with a need to raid the fridge of everything save for Horror’s food. And Boss’. And Killer’s. And the Rookie’s too, if he’s being honest.

Error? Fuck him, he’s eating all of his chocolate.

Despite the eerie silence ( _why is the castle so menacing at night-_ ) making his guard raise, he’s practically skipping to his goal. Normally he wouldn’t _dream_ of leaving his room at this time, but he’s hungry and he won’t be able to sleep otherwise.

He hums a small tune he remembers overhearing someone sing to him while he was half awake, half lost in memories. Whoever did it was calming, soothing even, placing their hand on his skull and lulling him back to sleep. He must’ve been screaming again if someone checked up on him. Hey, he should ask around and find out who it was; then again if he did that then he’d have to admit to screaming to nightmares, which he remembers bragging that he _doesn’t_ do to Killer and Horror, so that option’s on hold for now.

_what was i doing again? oh right. food._

He passes by a side hallway when he hears it.

_Creeaaakkk..._

“psst. hey. i got a surprise for ya.”

_whatthefuckwhatthefuck_ **_whatthefuck-_ **

Dust screams in a (surprisingly) high-pitch and hightails it out of there, hunger forgotten. _who cares about the damn food when there's a monster here looking to steal my SOUL?!_

From the shadows Reaper’s permagrin falters, watching Dust’s retreating back skid around a corner so fast he’s surprised the other doesn’t get rug burn.

_Attempt Two: Failed._

* * *

He doesn’t want to think about Attempt Three. Error’s glitched screams of rage and Cross’ hysteria at seeing the real-life cow in the living room are enough of an answer.

_Attempt Three: We Don’t Speak Of It._

* * *

_Attempt Four: Appeal To Animal Lovers By Playing With Animals!_

...Which is all good, until he goes to pet the resident dog and realizes that he can’t touch another being without killing them.

Being Death really sucks sometimes.

_Attempt Four: Failed._

* * *

_Attempt Five: Compliments!_

“y’know, ya work real hard. ya deserve more credit and a break.”

“look at ya go! you’re a natural!”

“if ya need anythin’, i got ya. jus’ say the word.”

_look at me go! i’m on fire!_

**“...Reaper. Is this some kind of joke? That positivity is disgusting.”** Nightmare says flatly, peering at him with exasperation over stacks upon stacks of papers. Looks like Error came back with his notes on glitched AUs. **“You never praise someone without wanting something in return. Speaking of someone, are you doing well with my subordinates?”**

Reaper shrugs. “well enough.”

The cryptic response has Nightmare sighing. **“I should’ve expected as much.”** He then sits up straighter than before (if that’s even possible, his friend’s always going on about good posture), his eyelight looking like it’s boring straight into his SOUL.

His gaze softens. **“They’ll come around. For someone who tests the nerves of everyone you meet, it is surprisingly hard to have a negative impression of you for long.”**

“heheh, i uh, jus’ remembered that Life’s askin’ for me. gotta check in with her an’ all,” Reaper fumbles an excuse to leave, fidgeting under Nightmare's knowing stare. He gives a short laugh and a hurried wave before opening a portal, stepping through. “seeyalaterNightBYE-”

Once it closes behind him, he sighs. It’s so much easier giving Nightmare compliments. The others? Not so much. It’s due to having known Nightmare for years, he’s sure.

_Attempt Five: Failed._

* * *

Reaper stares numbly down at the mess on the kitchen counter, taking in the cracked eggs and the powder spread everywhere like snow. He’s making cookies...or _was._ He just- doesn’t know where he went wrong, is all. He even followed the recipe to the letter! Even if it looked a little strange!

(He won’t mention how this is the third time he’s trying this recipe in particular, and that this is the third time he’s screwed up. In his defense he has never baked a thing in his life; that’s more of Life’s thing...he thinks. Taking over the role of Reaper gets confusing sometimes.)

_Attempt Six: Bake Something And Present It As A Peace Offering._

Another attempt. Another failure. At this point he’s ready to give up. Nothing’s working, he’s nowhere near fulfilling that promise to his friend, and he-

He really sucks in general. And an asshole. Even though he was in a foul mood due to other _certain_ events happening before meeting Nightmare’s newest subordinate, it still doesn’t wash away the fact that he was a dick about it.

Maybe…

Maybe he’s just not cut out for the whole “friend” thing, after all.

His permagrin strains as he sets out to clean the counter, grabbing a sponge next to the sink and putting dish soap on it before running it under the water. It’d make sense if he isn’t meant to have friends; he doesn’t know the first thing about it. To be honest, he was following his brother’s “Friendship Manual” to see how it works, and so far...no luck. It's probably a sign for him to stop.

He thinks back to when he first met Nightmare, remembering the smell of blood and the hand that helped him up. _why did he save me that day? what did he see that was worth a second chance?_

“what’s...that s’posed t’ be?”

He jumps as a presence walks into his peripheral, a little ways off to his right. Horror is looking at the mess on the counter, and oh stars Horror’s universe is big on preserving food and he wasted so much already and ain’t this the kicker after failing so much-

“...cookies?” Horror asks as he holds up a slip of paper, breaking Reaper out of his thoughts. He goes back to cleaning, eventually grabbing a dish towel and trying the work area.

“oh. uh. yeah.” Can’t he say a full sentence? Why does he even sound so surprised? He usually has a better handle on his emotions than this. The failures must really be getting to him. “heh. ya can see how everythin’ really _crumbled_ t’ pieces.”

The pun falls flat. Reaper grimaces, looking at the newly cleaned pots and pans. “...though i’m gonna stop. ain’t exactly got a chef’s touch, if ya know what i mean.”

He’s surprised when a hand reaches over into his space, picking up a mixing bowl. “you’re _mixing_ up th’ steps...ya got th’ right idea,” Horror says as he gets out more ingredients from the pantry. Reaper wonders if Nightmare overstocks on purpose, just in case something like this happens. “i jus’ dunno...why you’re swappin’ th’ order.”

Reaper takes the paper back once it’s offered to him, squinting at it. It’s a recipe he got from Life, who wrote it down for him. Her handwriting’s neat and easy to read, so how is he messing up the steps…?

He blinks. For a brief moment the letters flip on him, wobbling off the page. He makes a small noise of confusion before setting the slip of paper down, frustrated. No matter what, it looks the same to him. 

He's just be tired from trying to uphold his promise; he usually doesn’t work so hard outside of his job. That’s the only explanation he has.

He must be making an interesting expression, because Horror shakes his skull as he starts putting ingredients into the mixing bowl. “i’ll...help ya. jus’ follow my lead and you’ll...be fine.”

Reaper hesitates. Is he ready to try again, even after so many failures?

_but what if this is the one where i get it right?_

Well. He certainly doesn't have anything to lose at this point.

So he gives a small chuckle, grins, and says “sure. why th’ hell not.”

* * *

With Horror’s quiet but steady guidance, the cookies end up coming out perfect. Reaper “ooh”s and “ahh”s at the sweets, the heavenly smell wafting around the kitchen.

He goes to pick one up, eager to try it for himself when Horror shoots him a glare. “they’re not...cool enough yet.”

“but oh my stars they smell so _good,”_ The cloaked skeleton sighs out in impatience, staring hard at the cookies like it’ll make them cool faster. “they probably taste jus’ as good, too. c’mon, Horror, not even a little bite?”

Horror shakes his skull, adamant. “no exceptions.”

Reaper groans as he throws his hands up into the air. “fine, ya win. you’re th’ expert here.”

Horror scratches the side of his skull. He’s looking off to the side but his eyelight is unfocused, shrinking and dilating. “not an expert...jus’ don’t want ya t’ burn yourself.”

For a brief moment Reaper wonders why Horror’s being so nice to him, but the thought is immediately out the window when he fully registers the other’s concern. He gives a small snort, though makes no moves to snag a cookie. “m’ literally Death itself, ya know. don’ gotta worry ‘bout a lot when ya can’t die.”

_which isn’t true, but they don’ need t’ know that. Night’s close t’ figuring it out, but by then it’ll be too late._

Horror blinks, slowly coming to. “ya may not be able t’ die, but ya can...still get hurt.”

_...huh._

He never thought of it like that.

“still,” he starts, even when Horror shoots him an unimpressed look, “ya don’ gotta worry. let me do th’ worrying, alright?”

It takes a moment for Horror to nod, but once he does, Reaper’s grin widens.

“good. now when can we eat these?”

“after i bag some for the others.”

And as they lean against the counter half an hour later, with Reaper doing most of the talking but making sure to keep his voice down while Horror nods along, his SOUL feels a little warmer. Talking to Horror is...nice. The other isn’t much for conversation, but he’s a good listener.

He hopes they do this again sometime.

Horror looks over at the clock, his eyelight brightening as he remembers something. “gotta...check on Boss and give him cookies. then check on...the others.”

Reaper suppresses a frown. Was time really flying by that fast? That’s weird. To be honest he was having fun, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever get a chance like this again. Talking to others save for Nightmare and the other gods of Reapertale is usually harder than this. Normally he only talks to them if it’s absolutely necessary, or if he wants to mess with them; other than that, he normally tries to keep conversations short. “do ya mind if i tag along?”

Horror picks up a small plate, loading some cookies onto it. They’re still warm, to Reaper’s surprise. “...sure. after, i can...show ya how t’ bake.”

For once, he doesn’t float as he trails after the other skeleton. There’s a grin on his face but this time it’s genuine. Peaceful.

Maybe this “friends” thing isn’t so hard, after all.

_Attempt Six: Success._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: I don't need friends, they disappoint me
> 
> Nightmare: You literally cried when I said I had to work for a few days and couldn't visit you
> 
> Reaper, tearing up: NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW ABOUT THAT-
> 
> Part of Reaper's and Nightmare's backstory is revealed! What's going on with Reaper? Why did Nightmare spare him? And why is Horror giving Reaper a chance? More will be revealed in time!
> 
> Again, thank you for all the support! If you have questions about any three of my Undertale stories, about future plot, or want to see the art I draw both for fun and for asks, come visit my Tumblr, https://wheresleepingboneslie.tumblr.com/ !


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